Any Way the Wind Blows
by Bloodstained Comma
Summary: Can an unmotivated pirate who became a pirate out of boredom ever really amount to anything? He certainly can if he lands himself on the Oro Jackson and becomes an apprentice alongside a generation of future greats, a red-hair and a clown among them.
1. Seagull

_All right, for those who have actually read the first chapter of my story Hearing Problems, you should know that this is a prequel to it. I'll be updating this one more often, since because of the story convention that Hearing Problems is entered in, I can only update it once a week :[ But oh well. Now I have this shiny new fic to work on, and it shall be called "Any Way the Wind Blows."_

_I had a good bit of trouble coming up with a name for this. I was listening to music and thinking and thinking and thinking and then Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen is playing on my playlist, and it gets to the "Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me" line and I'm like "PERFECT!" Queen has saved my day._

_Why is it perfect? Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out from this chapter alone.  
_

_So, this first chapter is entirely OC, featuring one of my newest who goes by the name of Lyon D. Rolf, and goes strictly by his surname Lyon for reasons that will later be explained. Well, I say it's completely OC, but I do mention **one** canon character in it. See if you can guess where :D If you can't, I'm not telling you, because you'll find out later xD_

_Hint: It has absolutely nothing to do with anything that happens on the second island. At all. Period._

_Anyway. Starts out here, when Lyon is 14 and just left home with barely anything that he really needs to become a pirate, but a few things that seemed like a good idea at the time. Among these are a boat - which he does need. Other things include much too much rum, an extremely old guitar that he can't actually play, a flag, and a battered hat. I go on to cover the first island he happens across and the second island as well, though the second one continues on over into chapter 2._

_So. He'll meet Gol D. Roger's crew in the next chapter by complete accident when he tries to steal the Oro Jackson (without realizing it's the Oro Jackson) on a whim induced by much too much rum.  
_

_**Disclaimer:** Any canon ideas or concepts that don't belong to me, don't belong to me. Any original ideas or concepts that do belong to me, do belong to me.  
**Warnings:** Eh. Not really.  
**Quoteyness:  
**This was all slightly disconcerting, both because he was now back in his original predicament and also because the wind had never obeyed him in the past.  
_

_So. Onto teh storiness._

* * *

There were many things that were an absolute necessity to the modern day pirate – that is, the pirate that set out during the so-called Golden Age of Pirates. Of course, they would need a compass – or for those on the Grand Line, a Log Pose. Aside from that, they would need to have a basic understanding of what these instruments did, how they worked, and how to apply how they worked to travel. A map was also generally a good thing to have. A treasure map was an especially good thing, for a treasure map could and would lead a pirate to exactly what, at any given moment, he was looking for, which would be a large sum or money or a large sum of something that could be easily exchanged for a large sum of money. It was also a good idea to have a weapon, what with amount of general fighting that a pirate did, whether it was serious fighting or general drunken brawling. Another nice thing to have was a sense of pride for the trade of piracy, though many critics saw it merely as a silly and unnecessary thing that would only do a good job of getting in the way and creating a lot of dangerous and often unnecessary situations. Of course, the most important thing was a ship, or at least a boat of some sort.

Lyon D. Rolf only had one of these things when he set out, and that was a boat. It did have a rather nice pirate flag, but even that wasn't exactly necessary when he was the only member of his crew thus far. He did have a guitar, but that was, once again, completely unnecessary, and it wasn't as though he could actually play it anyway. The tricorne hat was a nice addition, but was also unimportant.

Even had he had a compass, he would have had no need for it, being that he didn't understand the things. Maps were just as mind numbingly confusing, and while treasure maps were appealing, they would do no more than decorate the boat for as much good as they might do him, and the rum bottles were doing a good enough job of decorating it without any extra help. He didn't have a weapon because he couldn't afford one, and he wasn't that good with them anyway. It would take some time, but he would learn some way to deal with that slight drawback. Then the sense he had with him was not so much one of pride as it was one of absolute boredom. There just hadn't been much else to do, what with his older brother gone off to overthrow the government. Being a pirate had seemed like a good idea at time. Lyon D. Rolf liked to do things based on whims. It made life a lot more interesting, a lot more surprising, and moreover, a lot more fun.

He reflected on all of this as he lay on the blistering sands of a beach on what appeared most definitely to be a deserted island. He had set off days ago with no food and nothing to drink but rum. He really hadn't thought this out very well, but turning back was definitely not an option. That was mostly because he wasn't exactly sure which direction "back" was in.

Lying there pitying himself wasn't going to do him much good. It was a deserted island, sure enough, but there had to be some animals on it or something, maybe some tree that might have some kind of edible fruit. There had to be _something_ here.

He stood up, swaying slightly from a combination of slight tipsiness, starvation, and the possible beginnings of heat stroke. All that there was apart from the beach was a largish forest, and he was certain to get lost if he went in there and started exploring. He wasn't yet beyond the point of coherent thought, and was therefore well aware that _that_ was a bad idea. Of course, stumbling down the beach probably wouldn't do him much good, either, but he would just have to worry about that after he was done stumbling down the beach.

A short walk later, he was met with something that looked mysteriously like it could become food.

"Seagull…?" he muttered to himself, squinting to see if the thing in the distance was indeed that.

It appeared to be pecking in a rather finicky manner at something lying on the beach, not entirely sure of whether or not it might be good to eat but determined to figure it out. It was thoroughly distracted, so it didn't notice the human creeping towards it with a rock in its hand, trying to get within throwing range. It wasn't as though that mattered. This particular human had horrible aim even in a more sober state of being, and not that much common sense either. There wasn't really all that much to worry about.

Nevertheless, the bird did get pretty perturbed when the rock clipped its wing. It looked up and cawed at Lyon rather loudly, who jumped backwards a bit in surprise. The bird lost focus on what it had been debating on eating, spreading its wings and flapping them in a manner that could only be described as threatening. Lyon found himself slowly backing away from the creature as it became airborne, then running and stumbling away from it rather quickly when it decided to pursue him despite the fact that he had been backing off.

Then he took a moment to think, which he hadn't thought to do before. It was only a bird, wasn't it? He slowed to a stop, and then turned around to face the bird, which was still flying towards him. Yes, it was definitely only a bird. There was nothing strange about it. It wasn't even all that big. So it should be easily scared.

It wasn't, as he discovered when he tried yelling and jumping at it and it only continued its pursuit.

He ended up having to bat it away from him while it was attempting to scratch his eyes out with the small claws at the end of its webbed feet. After giving it one good whack away from him, it flew off towards the forest, cawing angrily. Lyon sat down on the beach and watched it gloomily, resolving to just start over when he gained willpower to stand again.

He started off along the beach again after a few minutes, rather dejectedly. He also rather dejectedly kicked the weird-looking fruit the bird had been pecking at out of his way and continued on.

Then his mind connected the word fruit with the word food a few more feet down the beach and he went running back to it, picked it up, wished himself the best in case the thing _was_ poisonous, and proceeded to eat it. It looked rather like a giant strawberry with odd designs all over it, but he didn't register this since he had already finished more than half of it before he really actually looked at it. That was only to give the fruit an odd look when he suddenly realized just how horrible it tasted. Then again, he was half starved and extremely hungry.

Beggars couldn't be choosers, so he gave a shrug to himself and carried on eating the strange fruit until it was completely gone. If it was poisonous or something, then he might die. However, if he didn't eat anything at all, then he would definitely die. He stood some chance of surviving for a little while longer if he ate _something_.

After a few more paces along the stretch of beach, he decided that going into the forest and actually finding his way back out again was a very unrealistic concept. He would most likely be better off leaving and waiting until he drifted to a more populated island. At least he was a little less hungry than before, but that fruit had left one terrible taste in his mouth.

* * *

After reflecting on how very relaxing this situation truly was, the annoyance began to sink in quite quickly.

It had been hours since he had left the little island, and the only evidence Lyon had that the place hadn't been in his imagination was the fact that he still couldn't get the taste of that horrid fruit out of his mouth. As if it wasn't bad enough that he was no doubt miles away from the next island, he had just managed to sail himself onto a very calm, very relaxing stretch of water, and the boat absolutely refused to budge. He kicked it in annoyance.

"Oars," he told himself, looking around, up at the sail, for anything he might be able to use as such. "I need _oars_, why didn't I bring any with me – because I'm an idiot, obviously. Damn it!" He kicked the boat again. "Move! Do something!" He slumped down to sit in the small boat, and looked up at the stationary sails again. "So _this_ is how I'm going to die. Stranded in the middle of calm water with no rum and waiting for the wind to blow." As an after note, glaring up at the sky, at the air in general, he added, "Blow, damn you! I need wind!"

And there was wind.

It was a rather strong wind.

The boat even tried to tip over.

Lyon was too busy gawking at the suddenly moving sails to notice this for a moment, but he eventually did when he looked wildly around in an attempt to figure out why it felt like something was ramming the boat. It felt like that because some rather violent waves were, indeed, ramming the boat. "Not like that, not like that!" he commanded nothing in general, holding onto the sides of the small boat as a particularly large wave sent him a good ten feet in one direction. "Stop it!"

And there was no wind.

This was all slightly disconcerting, both because he was now back in his original predicament and also because the wind had never obeyed him in the past. He needed to get some handle on what was going on. So again, he looked up at nothing in particular, and said, in a tone that was more nervous than it was commanding, "Blow?"

Now he was back in his previous situation, in which the waves were swatting at the boat like a hundred hands all come to kill the same fly. One splashed into the boat and successfully soaked everything. Lyon would have been slightly perturbed about this had he not been busy falling over with a sudden feeling of weakness that he couldn't have explained properly no matter how hard he tried to. As the weakness ebbed off, he sat back up, looking around wildly. "What the _hell_?"

Then it hit him – another wave, that was.

After again recovering from that horribly annoying sensation of absolute powerlessness, he had a slightly better handle on the situation. He knew of one thing that could give humans supernatural powers and cause them to be unable to swim – or, incidentally, to grow weak when hit by large waves. And he definitely had eaten a fruit earlier. Could it have been a devil fruit?

He kindly told the wind to bugger off and go bother someone else as he reflected on this. What he didn't realize was that the wind took him quite seriously, and went on to form into a large cyclone that did quite a good job of bothering several different ships quite a few miles away from Lyon, until he called it back and told it to formulate itself into only enough of a breeze to get him away from the calm water and back to somewhere with more wind.

His later experimenting with this new power caused many atmospheric problems in many different places due to extremely strange wind patterns creating even stranger ocean currents. He would eventually learn to be a bit more careful, but right now it was all far too much fun to just leave alone. He was able to keep the boat going in one direction like this, and moving a good bit faster than usual, and he would eventually run into another island just as long as he was sailing straight without having to worry about ocean currents.

And indeed, shortly before sunset, he was docking his rather small boat at a large port town he had just happened across.

It was rather large, and it was also rather crowded and disorienting for Lyon, who had never actually left his hometown before he had set out to become a pirate. The main street had stands set up all around, and the vendors running them would try to sell anything from fruit to weapons to cleaning services to anyone passing them by. Lyon nicked a couple of apples off of a stand run by a woman who was arguing with a customer over the price of said apples and bit into one as he broke through the crowds, trying and failing horribly to see everything at once. He vaguely heard the woman running the fruit stand calling after him and starting walking a little faster, making it harder yet to see even remotely everything.

He did see the swords, however, and was thoroughly distracted by them. He broke across the crowded street and made it over to the stand.

"Can I help –" the vendor began, and then stopped. "Oh, just a kid…" he grumbled, slightly annoyed. "All right, you're blocking out all my customers, move along unless you've got some money to show, kid."

"I'm not a _kid_, I'm fourteen," Lyon protested, looking away from the swords and at the rather short, roundish man standing within the booth. "And I _am_ a customer. I haven't got any money yet, but I will soon."

_Somehow_, he added silently to himself, flinching slightly. Of all the things he could have possibly forgotten to bring with him…

"You're fourteen, so you are a kid," the vendor informed him.

Lyon scowled at this, turning his attention back to the swords scattered about the stand. They were much more interesting to look at than the man selling them. Various katana, cutlasses, scimitars, broadswords, rapiers – not that Lyon actually knew any of this. He just knew that he quite liked the one sitting on its own stand in the middle of the table in front of him, looking something like a centerpiece; the one with the wide, curved blade and the handle with the curved guard around one side of it – definitely very pirate-like.

"Look," the vendor said impatiently after a few moments. "I don't want any kids crowding up my booth, now _go_. Come back when you have money and I'll gladly be of service to –" He stopped suddenly, pausing in his words. "That, on your back," he said suddenly after a moment, squinting at something as though he couldn't quite see it, or couldn't quite believe he was seeing it. Lyon glanced over his shoulder, looking down at the shape of the old guitar that had been slung around his back by a leather strap. He looked back up at the vendor, blinking in question. "Can I see it for a moment?"

Lyon shrugged and removed the strap from around his shoulders, gripped it by its neck, and held it up. The vendor reached for it and he pulled it back. "You said 'see,'" Lyon said, suddenly quite a bit more alert. "That means to look. I don't see any eyes on your hands."

The vendor looked at him coldly for a moment, and then slowly pulled his hands back. Lyon set the guitar on the table. "The back," the vendor said impatiently. "I need to see the back of it."

Shrugging, he flipped it around. The vendor moved closer, but didn't attempt to touch the instrument again. He looked quite closely at the back of the neck. Lyon was inclined to pull it back again when the man's eyes widened in utter shock, then followed his inclination and did so, putting the strap back around his shoulders and pushing the guitar back behind him. He looked up at the vendor, intending to glare, but was left only raising an eyebrow at the awed look he was receiving.

"H – Is –" The man paused for a moment, then continued quietly, eyes darting about furtively. "That signature that's carved into – Did that really belong to –?"

"What does it matter to you if it did?"

"But how did a kid like _you_ get it? You're not even carrying a weapon, it's impossible!" Lyon crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side subconsciously in his bemusement. "That – that _monster_ had the largest bounty in the world a couple decades ago, and hasn't so much as been _spotted_ by anyone since then!"

"I took it," he said simply. He didn't understand what the fuss was all about.

"Yes, I _gathered_ that, it's not like it would have just been given to you – but _how_ did you manage to take it is what I'm asking!"

"I… picked it up and took it onto my boat and left." He shrugged. "Why?" he added suspiciously.

"You…" the man started weakly. He shook his head. "Never mind. Look," he added, taking on a more businesslike tone. "I will trade you as many of the weapons I have here with me for it. Can't pass up that deal, can you? You _are_ in need of a weapon if you plan on sailing – and you definitely look like you have plans of sailing."

"Trade the guitar?" he said incredulously. The vendor looked at him expectantly. "No, it's mine. I'm not trading it for a few lousy swords to someone who can't even recognize its real value."

"Kid, that thing is _priceless_, I get that," he said irately, "but if you're traveling, you _need_ a weapon, you don't _need_ a damn guitar with a lousy name carved into it –"

"Who the hell are you calling lousy, you bastard?!"

"I – I'm not – Look, I don't know who you think you are, brat, but it's not like a fourteen-year-old can survive the Grand Line without even carrying a weapon."

"I asked who the hell you were calling lousy!" He glared for a moment. "Whatever. I need to go find somewhere that sells rum anyway…" He started to turn.

"Wait!" the vendor said frantically. "A – All the weapons, and all of the money I've made today – no, for the past three days!"

"It's not for sale," he said, a note of finality in his tone as he continued to walk away. The vendor chose to ignore this note and continued with his negotiating.

"Look, all that and my profits for the next week –"

"I won't be here that long, and again, _no_. I'm not letting it go."

"Have you got any idea what that thing is worth?" the vendor asked weakly, obviously giving up his attempted barter.

"No," Lyon admitted, stopping and looking over his shoulder at the man. "I don't really care, either. I'll trade in anything else I can for money, just not this," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the old instrument.

"Y – you don't care…" he said weakly. "What are you doing with it, _playing_ it? That could damage it!"

"I can't play it. It's just important to me."

The vendor shook his head, gaping incredulously. "You could probably buy your own country with that thing, kid. Maybe more than one."

"You said yourself it's priceless, so stop trying to put a price on it." The man blinked rapidly at this. "I don't care what you try to give me, I'm not trading it. And I'm leaving. I might be back later to buy a sword or something, but with _money_, not anything else."

He turned and started away again, but didn't even get a foot before the vendor's mindless stammering broke into words. "What's your name, then, kid? I'm guessing you're a pirate, it's good to know who the rookies are in case they get famous."

"Lyon," he said, this time without turning to look back.

Had he turned, he would have seen the man grow extremely pale and suddenly fall back onto his chair, repeating the name in a quiet tone to himself. He shook his head as he watched the boy walk off.

"Lyon…" he repeated again, mumbling. "Then you weren't killed…. Can the seas really stand another?"

"'Scuse me, how much for this cutlass?" The vendor looked up at the customer and quickly stood, and the man gave a short laugh and spoke again before he could give an answer. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

The vendor laughed weakly. "Might have," was all he said on the subject.

As the two went on to bicker over prices, Lyon had just found a neglected money pouch lying at the corner of one of the vendors' booths, and decided that it would be a good idea to keep his eye out for more of these. There was no better way to make money quickly than that.

A loud clap of thunder made him drop the money pouch quite suddenly – it was either the bag or his second apple, and he was hungry enough to be holding _that_ in a death grip. He took a bite out of it as he picked up the pouch, careful not to get his hand crushed by anyone else in the crowded street. He looked up at the sky as he stood and saw a rather large, rather ominous, rather dark cloud rolling in from the direction he had come from. He raised an eyebrow and paid it no further attention, not having yet made the connection that this was one of many storms that his abuse of his new power was destined to cause.

He shrugged it off and swiped another couple of money pouches as he made his way to the nearest bar, wherever it might be.

* * *

_And that's that._

_Gotta love them unmotivated pirates._

_So, figure out who the canon character I mentioned was?_

_Yes? No? Maybe? Let me know any guesses you might have.  
_


	2. Attempted Hijacking

_Reviews and stuff:  
Spar: Yeah, you probably won't guess who the canon character I mentioned was for a while, not until you get quite a bit further in the manga :P_

_No, moving along._

_Firstly, I'd like to make mention of a few minor translations and similar things._

_1. **Kaze** means, simply enough, "wind," so Kaze Kaze no Mi would basically mean "Fruit of Wind."  
2. **Kakumau** basically translates to "shield."  
3. **Haki** is briefly mentioned in this chapter, but not by name.  
__In the One Piece world, it is a power honed by some characters of strong ambition and determination.  
It can, among other things, cause anyone with a weak determination around anyone with a strong Haki to pass out._  
_It translates directly to "ambition."_

_That should be everything, just let me know if I missed anything and I will add it in._

_So, now, onward._

_**Disclaimer**: I've already said that I don't own anything that I don't own. Therefore, One Piece can't possibly belong to me.  
**Warnings**: Alcohol. Yeah, like usual. Pirates. Yeah. Oh, stealing, too. Or piracy. Whichever word suits it better.  
**Quoteymagenerator?**:_  
_"Can I ask how you managed to collect so much money in such a short amount of time?"  
Lyon shrugged. "Pirate." He said the word as though it was explanation enough, and for the vendor, it was._

_

* * *

  
_

A large sack had been hoisted up onto a the table of a very bemused vendor, set just in front of a very well crafted cutlass that he prided himself in having come across for such a cheap price. He had very much overpriced it now that he was selling it, but hey, he had to make a living somehow. It seemed that he was about to make quite a living if this sack that the kid from earlier had just dropped on his table was filled with what he had a feeling it was filled with. He opened it.

It was definitely filled with quite a lot of what he thought it was filled with. His eyes widened as he gaped at the amount of money inside of the bag. He looked at Lyon. He looked back at the bag.

"Is that enough for that sword?" Lyon asked, pointing around the man at the very cutlass the bag was sitting in front of, the vendor's most prized retail item. The vendor nodded silently, still staring at the bag of money with wide eyes. "Great, then I still have enough left to actually buy food. I'll just need you to hand me that, I can't really reach around the bag, it's too big. And I'll probably need a sheath for it." The vendor nodded again, quickly got the money off of the table and behind it before anyone else could notice it. A moment later, he was handing the sword to Lyon, who, without bothering to examine it much, slid it under his belt to where the guard around the hilt would keep it from falling and getting lost. He then reached in his pocket and pulled out a small globe that rather resembled a circular compass of some sort. He looked at it for a moment, and then at the vendor, who was still staring at his bag of money.

"I was wondering," he said, pulling the vendor to attention suddenly, "about this. I think it's called a Log Pose? I just grabbed it off of a table down the street a minute ago. Could you tell me how it works, by some chance?"

The man blinked. "You didn't have one before you set out?" Lyon shook his head. "How in God's name did you get here?!"

"In a boat."

"I knew that! I mean – never mind, it's useless," he grumbled. "Right. First, you should know that each island in the Grand Line has a unique magnetic field of its own, despite the magnetic pull each of the planet's poles has, meaning that no regular compass can work here. Are you following me?" asked the vendor, though not very hopefully. Lyon's head had tilted to the side, brow furrowed, and he was looking extremely thoughtful and extremely lost.

"You lost me at 'magnetic fields,'" he said. "So do I just sail in the direction it's pointing in?"

The vendor sighed, deciding to skip the technical talk. "Yes, just sail in the direction it's pointing in. It's not always as easy as it sounds, it depends on the wind quite a bit."

"I'll have no problems at all, then," Lyon said, grinning. "And what about once I get to an island? Will it automatically point to the next one or something?"

"No. You'll have to wait for the log pose to adjust to the magnetic fields –"

"You're losing me again."

The vendor put his palm to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly and straining not to yell at this idiot. "All right." Could this really, _possibly_ be the son of such a vicious pirate? "All right. When you get to the next island, just ask someone there how long it will take the Log Pose to adjust. Just ask that. They'll give you a time. You stay there for that long, and then your Log Pose will be pointing in the right direction."

"Okay. But what if there's no one on the island?"

"Then just wait for the Log Pose to change on its own. When it's definitely, without a doubt, pointing in another specific direction, it's safe to go."

"Okay." He looked down at the rounded compass in his hand. "Can it break?"

"If you're not careful with it, yes," said the vendor. "There hasn't ever been a known case of a Log Pose actually pointing in the wrong direction. Wherever it points is where the next island is. It doesn't matter if it's pointing straight ahead, up, down, anywhere. Always trust the Log Pose. That's one of the main keys to surviving on this sea."

"Right," Lyon said, nodding. He held it up by the glass globe. "And what are the leather things hanging off of it for?"

The vendor blinked a few times, wondering if he was being serious. "They can wrap around your wrist. Like a watch? It's so you don't lose the Log Pose."

"Ah. I thought so, was just making sure so I didn't mess it up or anything." He nodded, and then put the Log Pose back in his pocket. "Thanks for everything. I should go now. I don't think my boat could hold up in the storm that's coming." As though the storm itself was agreeing with him, there was a bright flash of lightning off towards the harbor – though it hadn't quite reached there yet – and a loud clap of thunder to accompany it a moment later.

The vendor nodded in agreement. "Can I ask how you managed to collect so much money in such a short amount of time?"

Lyon shrugged. "Pirate." He said the word as though it was explanation enough, and for the vendor, it was.

A short time later, Lyon had boarded his ship with a renewed supply of rum, and a new supply of food and general supplies he hadn't previously thought of but had come up with during his time spent starving on a deserted island. He was quite glad to find that the Log Pose – which was now wrapped around his wrist by the straps attached to it for safe keeping – was pointing in a direction that the large storm was not in – straight past the island. As long as he could move faster than the storm – which he definitely could with his newfound devil fruit powers – he would be fine. It seemed that everything was going to be going rather well.

A few miles further, as the wind was obediently blowing the little boat along in the direction the Log Pose was pointing, Lyon did think of one other thing he would definitely need. He wouldn't need it too soon, but it would be nice to get sooner than later so he could start bringing a crew together. It wasn't that much of a stretch, to think of this in his current situation. The weight of the supplies he had brought on board was making the boat travel significantly slower than usual, and it also seemed like it might tip over rather more easily than it might have had there been less luggage in it.

Yes, he definitely needed a ship, and if not that, then at least a slightly larger boat. If he was lucky, he might be able to get one on the next land he came to. So far, he had been excessively lucky, so much that it seemed his good luck had to end sometime soon. Finding an island with at least one piece of food just before true starvation set in, getting caught on a rather large patch of calm water and suddenly having the power to make this only a trivial setback, finding a large town with every supply he needed but didn't have before – it definitely had to end soon. It just couldn't end yet, not before he found a better vessel.

He definitely would _find_ one in the next town. He would find quite a few, in fact. The only technical issue would be that none of these ships were for sale. Many of them were coming in from a storm that had just ravaged a good few ships to try to find materials to do a few makeshift repairs on them. One ship was still in particularly good condition to have sailed through that storm, and this was unfathomable to anyone who didn't know that it was crafted from Adam Wood. Its crew had merely stopped in the town for a bit of drinking and partying, perhaps to recruit new crew if the opportunity presented itself, but moreover to wait for the Log Pose guiding them to reset itself so they could move on. The captain had left behind a few of the younger crew to guard his ship, and his first mate to keep them in line and make sure they didn't start fighting amongst themselves.

He had, however, snuck off to go do a bit of gambling five minutes into the job, leaving the three apprentices to their own devices for a short time. The redhead and the clown were already arguing about something to do with the migratory patterns of South Birds. They weren't even sure why, but the subject had come up, and whatever one said, the other was bound to disagree. Why didn't matter. Who won the argument did. The third of them had, five minutes ago, claimed himself leader in the absence of the first mate, then proceeded to head up to the crow's nest to "keep watch." Therefore, he had been asleep up there for at least the past three minutes, undisturbed by the argument that would almost definitely turn into a fistfight soon if no intervention was made.

An intervention was indeed made, but it was a completely unintentional one – well, a partially unintentional one, at the very least. Lyon had been looking for some way to get on this ship when he realized it was almost completely unguarded, but had been at a lack to find a way. That was when a power from his devil fruit previously unknown to him came into play, and that was that it was a logia type. He hadn't known this, but he had heard of logia type devil fruits and decided it would be interesting to try and see if it would work as one.

It did.

He had intended to board the ship, but he had definitely not intended to dizzily come close to falling off of it after spontaneously willing himself into becoming wind and flying onto the ship as such. Even so, the clown and the redhead were too busy arguing to immediately notice the disturbance.

After regaining his balance, Lyon looked around at the ship. It definitely was huge, and was probably much too large for him to control on his own. Of course, he had the wind on his side, so it was always a possibility. It probably wasn't a realistic possibility, but it was still a possibility.

"They're called _South_ Birds. _South_. They definitely migrate to the South during the winter!"

"They're called _South_ Birds because they always face the South! And besides, Jaya is a spring island so even if they did migrate during the winter, there would be no winter, which completely eliminates the purpose."

"Just because it's a spring island doesn't mean it doesn't _have_ a winter, that's just referring to the climate."

"Which is spring-like."

"Not all year!"

"Would you idiots keep it down?" Both of them – as well as Lyon, who was still trying to figure out how to intervene on all of this in order to hijack the ship – looked up to the crow's nest, from where a third apprentice with dark blue hair was looking down at them, slightly annoyed. "I'm trying to slee– uh, keep lookout up here!"

"You're not doing a very good job," Lyon informed him.

"Hey, _I'm_ the leader here, and _you_ – wait a minute, who the hell are you?"

"Lyon. And really, you're not doing a very good job."

The blue-haired boy scowled at this, then directed his attention to the redhead and the clown and spoke through gritted teeth. "Buggy, Shanks, as you're temporary commander –"

"You're not _my_ commander," the redhead protested.

"I don't give a damn, you're both supposed to be on your guard! Now attack him until I can get down there to kill him myself!"

"Whoa, wait a minute, you don't even know what my intentions are yet!" Lyon said, backing into the railing around the deck. It wasn't much of an argument at all, given what his intentions actually were.

"Then what are they?"

He could come up with a story or tell them the truth. It was very possible that they would believe the truth to be a lie, being that he was only one person and it wasn't a small ship by any means at all. So that could work. "Well, I _was_ going to steal the ship –"

"All right, you heard him," he said to the other two.

After a bit more arguing, the two on the deck decided it probably would be a good idea to get Lyon off of the ship before someone they were calling "Silvers" returned, or they might all be killed when he did. Either way, Lyon panicked slightly when the clown's hand separated itself from his arm, carrying with it four daggers, and launched itself towards him. Now, he figured, would probably be a good idea to test exactly _how _useful this whole devil fruit thing really was. Most with devil fruit users usually used their powers to gain an upper hand in combat, as the clown was doing. But what the hell could _wind_ do?

It could blow things away, that's what it could do.

The only thing he was missing was a name for the powers, which would allow him to attack. He could be uncreative and go with "kaze." That seemed to be the best idea at the time. With some very quick thinking about how all of this was going to work, he stretched his arms out in front of him and, while willing his hands to turn into wind, said rather uncertainly, "Kaze Kaze no… Blast…?"

He tried not to look to surprised that all of this actually did work, but failed to not look surprised at the fact that his hands had just turned into an explosive wind force and pushed back the projectile dagger-bearing hand to its owner, then continued on to attempt to blow up its owner. After blinking dumbly at this chain of events for a moment, Lyon willed his hands to turn back into hands, and all was calm again.

Then he had an idea.

It was a rather good idea, if he did say so himself. It was a good thing he came up with it as well, as blue-hair had just gotten to the deck and Lyon now had a problem in that a sawed-off shotgun was being pointed at him. He, however, leaned back against the ship's railing calmly, trying to will the wind to listen to him while ignoring a voice screaming discouragements in his head about how none of this could possibly work and he was merely deluding himself in thinking it would. He managed to ignore the voices just when he noticed that the gun had been fired.

"Kaze Kaze no… Kakumau."

A translucent, swirling, dome of wind appeared in front of him – and behind and over top of him, he noticed a moment later – and deflected the bullet from the shotgun. Lyon sighed inwardly in relief that it had worked, and made a mental note that he really needed to practice with this later, so that uncertainty in these situations could be avoided. It was never a good thing to be uncertain about one's own skills in combat. Up until yesterday at around noon (as it had taken him a little under a day to get to this next town) he had been perfectly certain of what his combative skills were like, as they had been more or less nonexistent. Now they were far from that, and he would definitely need to get used to that or it could end up causing him some serious problems.

"All right, what the hell!?" blue-hair demanded in annoyance, staring at the dome and lowering the shot gun. "Can't you fight at _all_?"

"No," Lyon replied defensively, then wondered why he was being defensive about that. He shook the thought from his head, and then added, "And I'm not lowering my shield until you all agree to willingly give up the ship."

This broke out a debate for the next few minutes between all four of them, though Lyon's arguments mostly only consisted of him repeating his original demands while the other three protested them. This all ended rather quickly when the four of them were suddenly presented with the information that there was someone else on the ship.

"Are you three honestly _that_ incapable of watching a ship for more than ten minutes?"

All four of them paused entirely and turned their heads and look up at the quarterdeck. For Lyon, this was a very bad mistake, as pausing what he was doing meant he had just let his shield down entirely. He, however, hadn't realized this, as he was now faced with a new problem, and that was that the man sitting on the stairs that led up to the quarterdeck definitely looked like he was a good deal stronger with than the other three.

"Silvers!" the blue-haired one said, surprised to see the man there. "Ah – we – we were just apprehending the intruder… sir."

"And not doing a very good job of it," the redhead added. Blue-hair elbowed him to get him to shut up, glaring.

The man called Silvers looked between the three, then at Lyon. "Well, what's he doing here?"

"Hijacking the ship, from what he says," the clown said.

"And also not doing a good job of it, so I'd say we're doing all right," blue-hair added. "He's a devil fruit user, logia type apparently."

Silvers nodded, and then looked directly at Lyon. "What's your name and what's your business here? I doubt you're alone."

Lyon was just about to tell him that his name was Lyon, and that he had been planning on hijacking the ship but was seriously reconsidering because of the fact that he _was_ alone and therefore probably wouldn't succeed. However, just as he was going to, just as he got out the word "my," he was passed out and falling backwards over the railing of the ship and into the water. His last thought before he lost consciousness was about how it was probably a good thing that that guitar was still in his boat and in a case rather than on his back. Janx, Buggy, and Shanks all looked at Silvers, who shrugged at them and took a drink from a bottle sitting next to him which was no doubt filled with whiskey.

"Half-assed determination. It's not my problem. Kid mention a name?"

"Lyon, or something like that," Janx said.

Silvers choked on another mouthful of whiskey at this, and managed to sputter out a question when he calmed down. "Any crew?"

"D… don't think so," said Janx, raising an eyebrow. "Why, do you–?"

"One of you, go get him."

"Wait, what?"

"Roger left me in charge here," he reminded them.

He ended up sending out Janx simply because he was protesting it the most, leaving Buggy and Shanks to continue questioning him on why. His answer was merely that he was a logia type devil fruit user and therefore might be useful, and that he recognized the name as belonging to a pirate from a couple decades back and was curious to know exactly why the kid was using the name. This was mostly the truth, but there was a little more to it than that.

The kid looked familiar. He _looked_ like the one whose name he was using. Enough to be a son or some other close relative. That meant that it was very possible that the Lyon Silvers knew of might be alive, and that they might all stand a chance at being killed if they let this kid die.

* * *

_YAY and onto the Oro Jackson we go._

_Silvers is an awesome old dude. He's not so much an old dude in this time frame, but he's still awesome. In One Piece, though, he's an awesome old dude. Even though he's not in it until way later. Though in the flashback in the early chapters where Buggy is remembering his time as a pirate trainee with Shanks and how Shanks inadvertently ruined and saved his life all in a period of about two minutes (because Shanks is just awesome like that), I do believe that the crewmate who reprimanded them for arguing about the temperatures of the North and South Poles might have been Silvers. The glasses were the same, at least._

_Anyway. Aside from my random connections due to reading too much, I have recently discovered Pandaman. Pandaman is a joke character created by Oda who can be found in loads of random chapters at random times just in the background. I first encountered the name at the Impel Down arc, then rereading the manga, I saw a man with a panda head in the background of one scene, and I was all, "Hmmm, I wonder..."_

_So, I looked it up and discovered that Oda is a smart ass who likes to mess with readers' heads. Therefore, he is awesome. I've been rereading just to search for Pandaman lately._

_For my other One Piece story, the next prompt for the next chapter in the Story Convention keeps getting pushed further and further back, for some reason, so it'll probably be later this week or early next week before I can even start on it.  
_


	3. Arguments

_WOOT finished the new chapter before my first day back at school._

_Which is tomorrow. Sooo YAY!_

_Comment replies (well, reply, actually, since my story's all unpopular and junk):  
UsopppLover4Ever: Ha! Knew it was him. He totally is awesome._

_Mmkay, that's covered. No translations this chapter. Haoushoku Haki is just a strong type of natural-born Haki (for definition, see last chapter) that Silvers Rayleigh, among a handful of others, happens to possess._

_All right. Now. We've got more Silvers in this chapter, we introduce my interpretations of Roger - I figure, after references from the Skypiea ark (when it's said that he's a good bit like Luffy, I believe by Gan Fall) and what little we have seen of him (which isn't much), he's probably a bit irresponsible and a bit competetive, but pulls through when needed - similarities to Luffy utilized there - but has at least slightly more sense than Luffy, if only due to the difference in age. Silvers, obviously, seems laid back enough from what we've seen of him - which is a good deal more than Roger. Here he's a tad bit irritable, but that's only because he's stuck with dealing with not only Shanks and Buggy's , but now also my two OCs, Lyon and Janx, thanks to Roger deciding to shanghai Lyon into being an apprentice aboard the ship. Well, I know that would make me irritable. I think it would make most people irritable, having to deal with all that arguing._

_Ah, also, we find out who the canon character I mentioned in the first chapter is in this one._

_Moving on.  
_

_**Disclaimer**: For the last time. I don't own anything that I don't own. Among these things that I don't own is One Piece. Since I don't own it, I don't own it. There. Fine. Good.**  
Warnings**: Not really.**  
Quotedom**:_  
_"Never mind that," blue-hair interrupted, "why the heck does the captain want him to let him get to the ship?"  
Silvers shook his head. "I don't know. Probably feels like fighting or something. You'd have to ask him. Roger does a hell of a lot of things that no one but him understands."_

* * *

Silvers was never really sure why he always had to deal with these things. He was the first mate, surely enough, but it hadn't been his bright idea that the Jolly Roger pirates should take on apprentices to train for a future generation of piracy. He had thought the idea was ridiculous. It didn't turn out to be as bad as he had thought it would be before hand, but the ones like Buggy and Shanks just made it more difficult. As if they weren't bad enough, Roger had just decided on a complete whim that the Lyon kid would probably be a good addition.

Silvers spent a moment blinking dumbly at this, taking in this statement of absolute idiocy, before coming up with a decent reply.

"What?" Maybe it wasn't _that_ good of a reply, but it worked.

"You said his name was Lyon, right?" Silvers nodded reluctantly, leaning against the railing around the quarterdeck. "Then he's got the blood for it. The only problem I see is that he might already be part of another crew, if he was trying to steal the ship. You'll have to find that out."

"He could have been lying about his name."

"I doubt it. Look at the old bounty posters. There's too much resemblance for him to have been lying."

"Janx is probably planning different ways to kill him already. You heard him earlier." Apparently Janx already despised Lyon, as he had bluntly described him earlier as a "dumbass coward who couldn't do anything but hide behind his stupid devil fruit powers."

Roger laughed at this. "So he'll have a rival, big deal. He needs more motivation anyway; he spends more time asleep in the crow's nest than he does doing anything else."

Rival – that was a light way of putting it. Shanks and Buggy, they were rivals. Lyon and Janx were going to end up being mortal enemies if Silvers couldn't talk Roger out of this. The fact remained that no one could talk Roger out of anything he had his mind set to, and Silvers therefore stood no chance of talking him out of this. He had already decided that it would be a good idea to let Lyon into the crew as an apprentice. It wouldn't even matter if Lyon himself had anything to say against it. He was going to be an apprentice.

Silvers saw none of this as any reason to cease his argument just yet.

"The Lyon kid is the one here that lacks any determination. I wasn't even trying to use Haki and he still ended up passed out and falling off the ship. He hasn't got enough ambition."

"He will, he just needs motivation. Seems like he probably wasn't in a crew, probably just set out alone. I didn't recognize the flag on his boat, anyway. Not everyone starts out being a pirate because they genuinely wanted to be one, there's no telling what got him into it. He's not captain material as he is right now, but he probably will be once he's had a little bit of training."

"And what makes you so sure about it?" Silvers challenged.

"I already told you, it's in his blood. If he really is the son of _that_ Lyon, then there's no doubt he'll end up being great."

Silvers shook his head, giving up as it became a pressing matter to split up another argument between Shanks and Buggy (this one about exactly how the climates of islands in the Grand Line worked) before it could turn too serious – they would argue anything into a fistfight if given the opportunity. It was obvious to Silvers that Roger just wasn't going to give in on this matter – or any other matter, given his stubbornness – and it would therefore be pointless to try to argue much of anything.

* * *

"Hey." Kick. "Wake up." Pause. Kick. "Don't make me kick you again, kid. Up."

With a groan of protest at this horrible concept of "waking up," Lyon lifted his head up from where it had been resting on his knees and stared across from where he was sitting at the wall. Wall… wall? His boat had no walls. This was definitely not normal. His boat also had no crew, so who was this kicking him awake in what appeared to be a ship cabin?

But he had fallen into the ocean earlier. That should have killed him, being that his devil fruit prevented him from being able to move in water even while he was conscious, so perhaps he was dead. This theory, however, still didn't solve the mystery of who had just kicked him awake. It seemed that looking around might solve the mystery, so he decided to do that.

It didn't take him too long to spot Silvers, the very person who had caused him to fall off of the edge of the ship earlier. So that was where he was then, on that ship. He wasn't dead. That was nice to know. Silvers was looking extremely annoyed, however, so how long Lyon would stay alive remained to be seen.

"You were out for hours, haven't you got _any _sense of determination?" he asked, pacing around the cabin. Lyon blinked in response.

"Haki?"

"At least you know what I'm talking about…" he grumbled irately.

Lyon shrugged. "My brother has a really high level Haki. We didn't know what it was until his dad told him."

Silvers stopped pacing. "_His_ dad," he said thoughtfully under his breath. That could explain it. It did explain it, in fact, as was proven when Lyon elaborated on the statement.

"Yeah, they don't really get along with each other much. I don't have a dad," he added, as though it was perfectly normal for anyone in the world to only have one biological parent. "I just go by my mom's maiden name." He paused for a moment, looking around. Then something clicked in his mind – if he was on _this_ ship, then what was going on with _his_ boat? All of his things were on it. After his argument with the vendor in the last town over that guitar, leaving it alone for any amount of time seemed like a terrible idea.

"Where's my stuff?" he asked, continuing to look around.

"Captain's decided you'd make a good apprentice." Silvers sounded particularly perturbed about this.

"All right, whatever," Lyon said, waving a dismissive hand, and then he repeated, "Where's my stuff?"

"All of your supplies have been taken and added to this ship's inventory."

"My rum –!" he began, looking horrified.

"Has been added to the ship's inventory," Silvers interrupted him. "Seemed like those –" He pointed off at a corner, "were the only things you had that weren't a part of your general supplies." Lyon's eyes followed to where Silver was pointing. He gave a sigh of relief at the sight of a guitar case, a tattered tricorne hat, and a folded flag sitting in a corner of the room. However, his brow furrowed a moment later, and he hurried over to the corner to grab the guitar case, unlatch it, and open it. The guitar was still there. That was good. Now a secondary investigation was necessary. He pulled the instrument out of the case and began closely examining every inch of it. After a few minutes, he frowned slightly and set it carefully back in the case. Silvers raised an eyebrow at all of this.

"Did it pass your inspection?" he asked sarcastically as Lyon picked up his hat, looked it over quickly, and put it on.

"Nope," he said calmly. "There was a scratch underneath the bridge that was never there before."

"So…"

Lyon shrugged. "I'm going to find out who carried onto the ship and kill them," he said, just as calmly. "Do you know who it was?"

Silvers's brow furrowed. For someone who had just been unconscious for around five hours after just being in the presence of someone who could use Haoushoku Haki without the person _actually_ using it, it seemed strange that he might have any determination over much of anything. Regardless of that, Silvers knew exactly who had carried the guitar onto the ship, and telling Lyon would only add fuel to an already burning fire. Given Janx's opinion on the entire situation, there was every chance that he had been purposely careless with the guitar case just out of spite. Silvers wouldn't have put much of anything past Janx – he could be deadlier than anyone else in the entire crew when he wanted to be.

He shook his head no slowly in response to the question. "No idea." No use in adding fuel to the fire, none at all. "And I wouldn't be able to let you kill whoever did it if I did know. Killing a nakama is punishable by death on most ships, marine and pirate alike."

"Yeah, but there has to be some reason I was saved," he pointed out. "What would be the point of going and killing me when you could have just as easily let me die in the first place when I tried to steal the ship?"

"You've got a little more common sense than you let on, then," Silvers said, crossing his arms. He nodded at the open guitar case. "Where did you get that from?"

Lyon frowned momentarily. "I'm not selling it or trading it for anything," he said, a note of finality in his tone. "I've already had some guy selling weapons in the last town offer me his week's profits and as much of his stock of weapons as I wanted to take for it and I said no."

"I wasn't asking you to, I'm just asking how you got it."

He looked cautious, but he shrugged. "Was my mom's. She said she had it with her when she was a pirate. I just took it before I left, seemed like a good idea at the time. After the last island, though, I'm going to be paranoid that someone might steal it if I don't keep it with me all the time." Thoughtfully, he added, "I think my mom might have been a more famous pirate than she let on. Hmm?" Eyebrows raised, he took the stack of papers Silvers had just picked up off of a desk and handed to him. They were bounty posters, most of them fairly old, though a few appeared newer.

"Those are all of the world's highest bounties. Some of them are a little outdated," he said, "but that's because there aren't any rookies that have surpassed them yet. The ones that are new –"

Lyon interrupted him with a loud laugh. "My brother's in here!"

"_What_?" Silvers asked incredulously, snatching the stack of papers away from Lyon to look at the poster he had been looking at. His brow furrowed. "Dragon the Revolutionary?"

"Yep!" he said, voice filled with something that could only be described as pride. "He said that he was leaving to overthrow the World Government. He was always like that. He started out just not liking Da– his dad," he corrected himself quickly. Silvers ignored it; the kid had his own reasons for it, and he wasn't saying anything about them, so it wasn't any concern of his. "Then he decided to look into the Marines because of that, then the whole government, and he decided he didn't like how things were run. He heard about the Revolutionary Army and decided to go join it. He left a couple years ago. I guess he's doing good if he's got one of the highest bounties in the world now."

Silvers raised an eyebrow at the photograph on the bounty poster. "He's one of the highest ranking members, from what the news says."

"I don't read newspapers," Lyon said with a shrug. "They're boring." Silvers shook his head and handed back the posters. It was hard to tell if the kid was a complete idiot or just good at acting like he was. Maybe it was a little of both. "So most of these are pirates, right?"

"Most of them. There might be a few Revolutionaries in there, you'll even see a bounty hunter occasionally."

Lyon paused flipping through the pages, looking puzzled at this. "Why would the government want to put bounties on bounty hunters? They're getting rid of people that the government put bounties on in the first place."

"They prefer executing the criminals themselves, so they'll get annoyed at the ones who kill the criminals instead of just catching them and turning them in, and put bounties on them to get rid of the competition. I'm not saying it makes much sense," Silvers added with a laugh. "That's just how they get things done."

Lyon shrugged and continued flipping through the pages. "So they're ordered lowest bounty to highest one," he observed, stopping on one. He thought for a moment, then flipped to the one at the back to look at it. His jaw dropped, and so did the papers from his hand – however, it's hard to say whether the latter of his actions was out of surprise or because of the clatter that had just been made out on the deck that seemed to have caused the ship to give a particularly dangerous lurch. Papers forgotten momentarily, he looked around the cabin.

"What was –?" he began.

"_Garp_!" a yell from the deck interrupted him. "We're under attack!"

"_Shit_," Silvers said. Looking annoyed, he headed for the door. "That bastard won't ever learn…"

"Wh – what – who did –?"

"Garp the Fist, he's a Marine captain that's been after Roger for a while," Silvers said, stopping at the door. Lyon blinked dumbly in response to this information. "Hurry it up. You're a part of this crew, you're going to have to fight."

"I –"

"That's a command." With that, he left. Lyon stared at the open door for a moment before resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to go out there. It seemed his good luck had run out after nearly dying. He gave a sigh as he picked up the guitar from its open case. He paused to look down at the stack of bounty posters lying on the floor near his foot, to read the only lying on the top of the stack.

Lyon D. Helena, Hell's Angel. Bounty, five trillion beli. What exactly she had done to merit a bounty that high was beyond him. It was true she could be quite frightening when she was angry (and because of this, he had every intention of avoiding ever returning to his hometown – she would be far beyond angry with him for stealing her guitar), but five trillion was a little extreme. For that matter, her husband was a Marine. Taking that into account, it made very little sense that she wasn't in Impel Down.

Maybe the bounty poster was outdated, now completely out of effect, but Lyon somehow thought not. It sort of made more sense if the bounty still was in effect, why she never left the little island they had lived on when she had a fully functioning Log Pose, and that she wouldn't be found out because she was actually under the protection of the Marines. But the number on the poster still made things a bit odd. If she was worth that much, then it probably wasn't protection from the Marines that was keeping her away from the gallows. It didn't make any sense what it could have been.

Shouldering the guitar strap, he decided to leave the room before someone was sent to get him. It made no sense to him now why any higher power thought he needed to be saved from drowning earlier. If the Marines' ship made it to this one, he would just be killed anyway.

Just as he reached the open cabin door, there was another sound of impact on the deck, followed by another lurch. This simultaneously caused Lyon to flinch slightly and stumble out onto the deck, straight into the blue-haired kid who had, earlier that day, attempted to shoot him.

"Watch it!" he snapped, and Lyon suddenly found the sawed-off shotgun pointed at him again. "Oh, you." He lowered his gun – reluctantly, it seemed. "I'm not supposed to kill you."

Irritated at this, Lyon replied, "Go ahead if you want to. I'll be killed as soon as that ship gets here, anyway."

"What, you mean you can't stop it from getting here with those damn devil fruit powers?" he replied sarcastically.

Lyon opened his mouth to give his own sarcastic reply, but thought for a moment about the question, and instead said in a thoughtful voice, "Actually, I might be able to…"

"Oh, come _on_," he said skeptically. "You can't be serious. You're –"

He was interrupted when another cannonball hit the ship. Lyon looked around, perplexed. "Why aren't we returning fire?"

"The Marines' ship is too far off for any cannon to reach," a voice spoke from behind them. They both turned around, blue-hair pointing his shotgun towards the disturbance. "Cut that out." Silvers swatted the gun away with the sword he was holding. "Save it for when that ship gets here, Roger's got every intention of letting it."

"Wait a minute," Lyon interjected. "If it's too far for any cannon to reach, then how –?"

"Garp," Silvers said grudgingly as he looked at the ship approaching them from the port side, "doesn't need cannons."

"How –?"

"Never mind that," blue-hair interrupted, "why the heck does the captain want him to let him get to the ship?"

Silvers shook his head. "I don't know. Probably feels like fighting or something. You'd have to ask him. Roger does a hell of a lot of things that no one but him understands."

"I've noticed." Lyon noticed blue-hair glaring at him in particular at this.

"What?" he demanded.

The simple inquiry was more than enough to trigger an argument, which triggered a minor scuffle, which ended a moment later with the two getting knocked round the head and told off by a very annoyed first mate who would soon, for the third time that week alone, be asking exactly _why_ he had to be the one placed in charge of dealing with all of this ridiculousness.

* * *

* * *

_And that is that._

_I feel sort of bad making Silvers have to deal with all that. Poor guy. Oh well, the crew'll be disbanding in a couple years when Roger's executed, anyway. He won't have to deal with it after that._

_The story'll keep going, though. It's going to cover a good bit of time. I know exactly where it's going to end already. Yay me! I planned stuff. I'm getting better at that.  
_


End file.
